


Summer Experience

by reddiebitch



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst and Feels, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Endgame Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Oblivious Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-05-08 16:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiebitch/pseuds/reddiebitch
Summary: When the losers all work at a country club for the summer, things get hot between two of them (feat. a lot of internalized homophobia). (prev. titled Run With You)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [@kaspbrak-eddie](http://www.kaspbrak-eddie.tumblr.com)

“Hey so I did talk to my boss earlier, she said she thinks there may be enough room for you to come work,” Eddie said as he sat down at the lunch table, pulling a sandwich out of his lunch bag.

“No way!” Richie threw his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, beaming. “Thanks Spaghetti!! Now I’ll finally have enough money to take your mom out on a nice date!” He winked at Eddie through crooked glasses.  Eddie just rolled his eyes and turned them towards his lunch, not wanting to dignify Richie with a response. 

Beverly leaned forward to put her forearms on the table, her long red hair followed her movement, sweeping forward to fall on the table. “Well, I guess we should give you the Derry CC orientation then, huh guys?” She looked around the table at the rest of their friends, all had smirks growing on their faces. 

Mike spoke up first after a few seconds of silence during which the grin had been completely wiped off Richie’s face. “I got this. I know  _everyone_.” 

Stan elbowed him in the ribs, “He really does, I don’t get how he remembers everyone and their fucking grandmother who doesn’t even go to the club.”

Mike shrugged, “It’s a small town.” 

Mike spent the rest of their lunch period detailing the ins and outs of the members of the Derry Country Club: who was related to who, who used to date who in high school and twenty years later had still not gotten over it. He told Richie about which moms actually stayed to watch their kids at the pool, which ones dropped them off and immediately went to the gym in the clubhouse for hours, which ones just met their friends at the pool to drink copious amounts of wine. Mike seemed to know everyone’s business. “I just listen,” he said when Richie asked why the  _fuck_ he knew so much about the relationship between Greta Bowie’s parents. 

Richie was starting to wonder if this was maybe not the best job for him to have gotten for the summer. His parents had always been decently comfortable, with enough left over to be able to give Richie money when he needed it. And Richie had been fine with that, but he did want to be a little more independent, seeing as it was the summer before their senior year of high school and he’d be going to college soon. When his parents had suggested that he get a summer job, the country club had been the obvious choice--all of his friends worked there already. Bev worked the snack bar at the pool, she loved the fast-paced environment of it and that most of the patrons were kids. She always showed them weird concoctions of sodas from the soda fountain or interesting food combinations: she ended up teaching all of the kids at the club to dip french fries in their milkshakes. Mike was a waiter in the dining room, which is how he knew most of the hot gossip that went around the club. All of the moms and old ladies absolutely adored him and his manners. They always told him that he “just had to be the most respectful, kind young man they had ever met.” And if that meant that they over-shared a little about their personal lives after a few glasses of wine, Mike was fine with it. Bill and Stan worked at the golf pro shop, mostly as an excuse to be able to golf for free one day a week; Mariokart-esque golf cart racing was just a side perk. Ben was one of the tennis coaches--offered the job after he’d gone to state for tennis his sophomore year. He’d gotten into running in high school, and grown about six inches, which helped him lose almost forty pounds. This lead to the gym teacher who had treated Ben and Eddie like invalids all of freshman year reaching out to Ben to try to get him to join the track team. After telling him to fuck off, Ben had gone out for tennis, and had ended up being amazing at it. All the kids at the club loved him, more kids signed up for tennis lessons his second summer as a coach than they’d had in the program in years. On his insistence, although none of the kids understood, they all called him Coach Haystack. 

And then there was Eddie. Growing up under his mother’s watchful, worrying eye had made him fairly paranoid about health emergencies. He took a first-aid course at twelve years old and got CPR certified at fourteen, “just for fun.” After the CPR class, the instructor had suggested he get certified to be a lifeguard. It had been the perfect opportunity for him to get out of the house, and he started working at the pool the summer after their sophomore year of high school. He had thrown himself into the job, picking up any shift available so he had an excuse to spend time away from home. His managers had been so impressed with him that after one of the head guards had let the pool know that she wasn’t going to come back for another summer, Eddie had been the first person they called to replace her. He had been thrilled and accepted the job on the spot. He spent the next six months eager to start work again, looking forward to taking on the responsibility of being in charge. So when Richie had asked Eddie to hook him up with a job, Eddie hadn’t hesitated--he now had an excuse to be away from his mother  _and_ spend time with his best friend every day, guilt-free.

Richie had gone to the certification class and passed it just fine, making idiotic jokes and obscene gestures with the CPR practice dummies all the while. He just about passed out during the swimming requirement section and was sore for three days afterward, but told Eddie it was worth it: “I just thought of getting paid to see you in swim trunks all summer and I made it through!” Which earned a deep blush from Eddie, who was still completely oblivious to Richie’s flirting, and had been for almost four years at this point. 

A few weeks before school got out, Richie had an appointment with the optometrist to update his glasses, during which they suggested he start wearing contacts so he could wear sunglasses if he was going to be out in the sun for hours at a time. Richie was incredibly reluctant at first, he’d been horrified by eyes his entire life. After a near panic attack while putting the contacts in at the eye doctor, he did end up getting them in pretty easily--cheering when he did. He ran out to the lobby of the small doctor’s office to find his mom, “Oh my fuck! Mom! They gave me contacts and holy  _shit_ this is incredible!!” He yelled, earning glares from the other patients in the waiting area. “Mom, do you see this? I can  _see_! Without my glasses! I feel like a goddamn superhero right now.” 

At this she stood up and quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing him by his wiry, thin bicep, “Jesus, Richie. We are in public right now.” Although her heart almost broke when her son, who was now taller than her by almost half a foot, looked down and nodded at her with sad eyes. “Sorry, honey. It’s very exciting, I know,” she said as she tried to brush his overgrown bangs out of his face. “I wish you’d let me trim this, Richie. It looks awful.” 

He shook his head so it fell back over his eyes again, “I think it makes me look cool. I like it.” At this point in his life, Richie still acted as if he was in middle school, but he looked like he was college-aged as he’d hit a growth spurt and was now a little over six feet tall; the dark, floppy hair that was always obscuring his eyes didn’t help him to look much younger. He had grown about four inches in the last year but gained almost no weight, so he was mostly knees and elbows at this point. 

The next day before school, Richie decided to try the contacts out for the sole reason of screwing with Eddie. Since they only lived a few blocks apart, Eddie drove both of them to school every morning. That morning when Eddie pulled into Richie’s driveway and honked his horn to alert Richie that it was time to go, he raced clumsily out the door, shoving the rest of his poptart in his mouth as he walked to the car. He hopped in the front seat and dropped his backpack on the floor at his feet as he buckled up. “Mornin’ Eds!” He said, shooting a crooked smile at Eddie in the driver’s seat, who sat with a confused expression on his face.

“Richie? Where the fuck are your glasses?” 

He shrugged, “Oh, I broke em last night. Mom took them to get fixed this morning.”

“What are you gonna... How are you going to do anything today? Can you even see my face right now?” 

“Nah, not really. I may need a little help from my best friend to get around...” He said suggestively, smirking. 

“You’re fucking helpless.” 

When they pulled into a parking spot at the school, Eddie got out quickly and met Richie on his side of the car. “I guess just stick close to me so you don’t get hit by a fucking car. Try not to lose sight of me.” 

“Don’t have much of that to begin with, Eds.” Richie joked. Eddie sighed and grabbed his hand, leading them through the parking lot and, once they got inside the school, through the mass of bodies in the hallway. Although he could see perfectly, Richie kept a tight grip on Eddie’s hand, his heart fluttering in his chest. He felt like he was probably blushing but couldn’t really bring himself to care at that point, because that really had been the endgame of the entire charade. When Eddie caught sight of the rest of their five friends clustered around Bill’s locker, he stopped rather abruptly as Greta Bowie crossed in front of their path, coming from seemingly nowhere. Richie had been distracted by the back of Eddie’s neck and the hair that was just getting long enough to start curling at the end and he kept walking, colliding with Eddie’s back. 

“Jesus Trashmouth, get it together.” 

“Sorry, Spaghetti.” Richie said quietly, leaning down close to Eddie’s ear. He felt Eddie shiver and watched as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. 

Bill noticed them first out of the group, raising his voice slightly to get their attention, “Yo R-Rich! Where are your other two eyes?” Bill’s stutter had gotten a lot better since they’d gone to high school, at this point he only struggled with certain sounds and words but had gotten good at working around it.

Richie frowned, “Ha. Ha. Very funny, Big Bill.”

“The idiot fucking broke them last night.” Eddie said, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh no shit?” Beverly asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Oh fuck you, Bev. Also I was just pullin’ one over on you, Eddie. I got contacts yesterday actually! Look!” He leaned down so his face was close to Eddie’s and opened his eyes wide. 

Eddie slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Fuck you, Richie! We looked like idiots walking through the parking lot holding hands. Also, get your eyes away from me you’re so gross.” 

“Aw, you two are just too cute,” Bev said, her tone of voice mocking.

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks of school passed by quickly, and it was starting to get considerably warmer each day. By the time finals week came to a close, they were all ready to be done with school, and Eddie was itching to get back to work. He started a few days before Richie, he and the other two head guards getting the pool prepped for the summer along with their manager. Richie’s first shift was about a week and a half after the last day of school, but a few days before that he was required to attend an inservice with the rest of the lifeguards, run by Eddie and the other head guards. 

The first hour was filled with Richie attempting to distract Eddie from what he was trying to say, making him blush and stumble over his words. When they broke for fifteen minutes in the middle for a snack break, Eddie pulled Richie aside in a hallway off of the room they were in. “Dude. Can you at least try to take this seriously? I’m already the youngest of the three of us in charge, I need people to respect me.” 

“Fuck. Sorry, Eddie. It’s just hard to resist when you’re so  _cute!”_ Richie said with a nervous smile. “I’ll try to be quiet.” 

Eddie nodded, “You’d better.”

They went back in the room and Richie did actually manage to spend the rest of the time being quiet, just fiddling with his hands in his lap as he watched Eddie show them how the time clock worked. 

 

* * *

 

On his first day, Eddie picked Richie up about fifteen minutes before they were scheduled so they could head over together. Eddie’d asked their manager to schedule them together as much as she could on the grounds that they lived close and Richie didn’t have a car; she had obliged happily. Richie rolled up to Eddie’s car with just his phone, his new sunglasses, and a large bottle of sunscreen. “Eds look I’m wearing sunglasses I can wear sunglasses now! I just bought them last night I’m so excited!” 

Eddie laughed. “Very fancy, Rich. You excited for your first day at a big boy job?” 

“Very funny. You excited for your first day working with the hottest lifeguard in Derry?” Richie pushed his sunglasses up on his nose with an eerily similar movement to when he adjusted his glasses.

“I’d beg to differ on that one, Trashmouth.” Eddie said as he pulled out of Richie’s driveway and headed towards the pool.  

Once they arrived and got clocked in, Richie opened the sunscreen bottle he’d bought and started slathering every visible inch of skin with it. As he was working--unsuccessfully--on his back he looked over at Eddie, who was diligently checking to make sure they’d done everything they needed to before the pool opened. “Eds, you want some sunscreen?” 

Eddie didn’t look up until Richie snapped two of his sunscreen-covered fingers together, making a loud, wet  _snap._ “Hm? Oh I’m good, I don’t burn.”

Richie looked at him incredulously. “Uh, okay whatever you say, Spaghetti.” 

“Richie! You know how I feel about that one. Especially not here.” 

The day went off without a hitch, Richie got along smashingly with all of the other lifeguards as well as the kids, who had already started calling him Trashmouth. On the ride home, Richie poked his arm and pulled his finger away sharply, “Ow!” 

Eddie looked over to see him continuing to poke at the skin tenderly, hissing with every prod. “How the  _fuck_ did you get sunburned, you reapplied like... every hour??” 

Richie frowned at him, Eddie hadn’t noticed at the pool since it had been dark, but in the car as they passed under streetlights, he could see the redness growing in Richie’s cheeks. “I have the coloration of an egg, Eddie. It doesn’t take to the sun very well.” They were just about to pass Eddie’s house and he slowed the car down and pulled in the driveway. “Uh, dude? This is  _your_ house, not mine.” 

“I know.” Eddie pulled the keys out of the ignition, with which the lights in the interior of the car turned on. “Jesus. Let’s go inside I’ll get you fixed up. Wanna just stay over?” 

Richie beamed. “Sure! Thanks Dr. K.” 

As they were walking into Eddie’s house, Richie sent a text to his mom.

**[Richie 10:34pm]: Hey, spending the night with Eds. Be back in the morning.**

[Maggie 10:34pm]: Alright, let me know if I need to pick you up. Work good?

**[Richie 10:34pm]: Yeah! Sunburned. Eddie can drive me home in the morning.**

[Maggie 10:35pm]: OK 

They walked in quietly and snuck past Eddie’s mom, who was fast asleep in the living room with the television still on. Richie followed the familiar path up the stairs to Eddie’s bedroom where they set their stuff down. Eddie clapped his hands together softly, “Okay. Bathroom, now Mr. Tomato Head.”

Richie cracked up before clapping a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Uh, it’s Mr. Potato Head, my dude.”

“Whatever. You look like a tomato. Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes very much, every inch of my skin is crying,” Richie replied quickly.

Eddie nodded and turned around, leading them into the bathroom. He reached into the overflowing medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle. “Uh okay, here’s the aloe, I can do your back if you want to do the rest.” Richie leaned against the counter and nodded, his eyes drooping from a mixture of heat exhaustion and slight dehydration. Eddie reached over next to where he was standing and pulled open one of the drawers, fishing around in it for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for. “And here. You left your old glasses here last weekend I forgot to give them back to you. If you wanna just throw the contacts away. You’re not supposed to slee-”

“Yeah I know. Thanks, Spagheds.” He was still leaning against the counter, his eyes half shut, a slack grin on his lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile, when Richie was really sleepy like this he looked like he used to when they were kids. 

“K Rich, you’re gonna have to stand up if you want to do this.” 

“Mmmm Eddie I’m too tired let’s just do it in the morning.” 

“Jesus. Okay let’s just. I’ll just do it. Get your shirt off.” Richie obliged slowly, cringing at every movement of his arms that caused the skin to wrinkle. He really was much redder than Eddie would have thought to be possible. He opened the tube of aloe and squirted a good amount in his hands, starting with Richie’s chest. He hummed appreciatively at the feeling, his eyes fully closed now. Eddie made short work of his arms and back and came back around to face him. “Hey, Rich? I’m gonna do your face now. That okay?” Richie just nodded, and Eddie took it as enough of an okay, so he started with his forehead and moved down to his cheeks, earning a gasp from Richie.

“Sorry. ‘s cold,” he mumbled.

Eddie laughed softly and kept going, admiring the freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks. He’d had a lot more when they were younger, but some of them remained. Eddie knew they’d wake up the next morning and there would be more, the sun always coaxed Richie’s freckles back out of hiding. He thought about how many there would be by the end of the summer: on his face, his shoulders, his back. He shivered, not really knowing why, and finished up Richie’s face. He washed his hands in the sink next to him and brushed his teeth, then hip-checked Richie gently when he was finished. “Want to sleep, Rich?” Richie nodded and without a word just grabbed his glasses from the counter and walked into Eddie’s room, plopping face-down on the bed. Eddie leaned across him, grabbing the glasses from Richie’s outstretched hand and putting them on his bedside table. “Rich, take your contacts out you’re gonna fuckin’ go blind.” Richie propped himself up on his elbows, pulled both of the soft lenses out of his eyes, and dropped them right on Eddie’s side table before returning to his original position. “EW! Fuck no! Put those in the trash, you dick!” Richie just hummed back at him, already breathing deeply;  Eddie knew he was too far gone. He grabbed a tissue and picked them up, throwing them in the garbage by his desk. He then made his way over to his closet to grab the sleeping bag he rarely used anymore, and passed back by the bed, reaching over Richie’s head to grab a pillow. 

Richie’s eyes opened and he looked at Eddie, “Hm? What’re you doing?”

“Uh, getting a pillow? To sleep with?” Eddie replied as he shook out the sleeping bag and spread it across his bedroom floor.

“Eds. Sleep up here. My skin hurts... Please,” Richie whispered, barely audible.

“Richie, you’re like 900 degrees right now. I don’t really want to sleep with a human furnace,” Eddie said as he crouched down and climbed into the sleeping bag. Richie was already snoring as Eddie settled down into it, and he fell asleep not long after.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Eddie woke up to sunlight streaming in from the window, casting light over Richie’s still very sunburned body. He had, at some point in the night, flipped over on to his side and was now facing Eddie, curled up with his long limbs folded around him. Eddie had been right about the freckles, the number of flecks that were scattered across his nose had almost doubled, and he could see some starting to show up on his shoulders. He felt heat pooling in his stomach as his eyes raked over Richie’s shirtless body, watching his chest rise and fall slowly. Richie was basically a bag of bones, Eddie had no fucking idea how he was still so skinny, the boy could demolish enough food to feed a family of four in one sitting. But there was something about him that Eddie couldn’t put his finger on as he lay there looking at the mane of wild hair splayed across his pillow, the small amount of hair that had started growing on his belly, disappearing into the swim trunks he was still wearing from the night before, his long, lanky arms folded across his chest. He just... couldn’t stop looking. He had no idea when looking at his best friend had changed from just observing to outright  _staring,_ but at some point in the last year, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Richie every time they were together, and laughing way harder at his jokes than he should have been--earning a confused look from Stan every time. 

Richie’s eyes fluttered open and Eddie immediately rolled over onto his back, trying not to make it look like he’d just been blatantly staring at Richie for the last five minutes. Richie groaned as he sat up and stretched, wincing at his skin. “Mornin’ Eds,” he said quietly, and Eddie rolled onto his side to face him.

“Want to go to your house? Before my mom comes in and murders us both for you being here without telling her?” Eddie asked, sitting up.

“Sure thing. Where did my shirt end up?” 

“Bathroom still I think. I’ll grab it.” He got up and wandered into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and grabbing Richie’s t-shirt. He came back to find Richie sitting criss-cross in his bed and tossed the shirt at him, hitting him in the chest.

Richie dramatically fell backward onto the bed and let out a mock cry, “Eds, you wound me in my fragile state? Ouch.” 

“Oh shut it, Richie. Let’s go before my mom wakes up. Can you climb through the window? And I’ll just meet you at the car.”

“Dude I used to do that when we were like... kids. I don’t think I can climb backwards down that tree anymore.”

Eddie threw his head back in exasperation, “Can you try? She’ll skin me alive.” After a valiant effort from Richie to fold his now too-long limbs through the window, they both determined that it was probably a bad idea. Eddie walked over to his door and poked his head out for a second. “It looks like she did actually fall asleep in her room for once last night, as long as we are  _quiet_ we’ll be fine. Quiet, Richie.”

“Yeah yeah, I can be quiet,” he said as he stood up from the bed, immediately tripping over the flip flops he'd left on the floor the night before. Eddie met his eyes with a glare when he looked back up from the floor. “Sorry,” he whispered. 

They snuck out of Eddie’s room silently, lucky they didn’t have to pass by Sonia’s room to get to the stairs. Once they got to the bottom and Eddie left a note for his mom that he’d gone to work, they both flew out of the house and piled into Eddie’s car. “Hey wait, you don’t actually have to work today, right?” Richie asked once they were out of Eddie’s driveway and on the way to Richie’s.

Eddie shook his head, “No, but this way she won’t be on my case for not being there when she gets up.” Richie let out a sigh of relief and glanced at Eddie, his eyes focused on the road. He was somehow already tanned, his skin glowing in the morning sunlight coming in through the car windows. Eddie looked over tentatively, “What? Do I have something in my hair or something?” His hand immediately flew up to brush out whatever could possibly have made a home in his hair.

“No you’re good, just spacing out,” Richie replied, fixing his glasses on his face and moving his eyes quickly to look back out the windshield. 

They pulled into Richie’s driveway a few minutes later, just as his dad was leaving the house for work. He waved at them as they hopped out of Eddie’s car, throwing his briefcase in the passenger seat. He stopped dead when he saw Richie and closed the car door, “Jesus, Rich. Come here.” Richie groaned and closed the distance between them in just a few steps. Wentworth grabbed his face gently in both hands and examined it carefully, they were about the same height now. “Your mother is going to lose it. Did you put  _any_ sunscreen on?”

“I did, I promise! You guys cursed me to be this way,” he said, dramatically flailing his arms about and slouching over. Wentworth peeked his head around Richie’s to raise a single eyebrow at Eddie.

“He did, Mr. Tozier. Every hour on the hour. I put some aloe on him last night when we got back.” 

“Well thanks, Ed.” He released Richie’s head, softly smacking the side of it in a gesture that was somehow loving and mocking at the same time. “Alright, go show your mom. Glad I won’t be here for this, good luck.”

Richie rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide the grin on his face, “ _Bye,_ Dad.” Eddie gave a small wave and both of them turned around to walk into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

“Richard  _Harrison_ Tozier _._ Are you kidding me? Come here.” 

Richie groaned as he stepped over the threshold of his front door, barely having taken even one step in the house before his mother noticed his sunburn. “Moooom, stop it I hate when you call me that.” 

“Honey I sent you with sunscreen for a reason! Both of you get in here before Richie’s skin falls off.” Richie shuffled forward, allowing Eddie to get inside behind him and close the door. Maggie Tozier made her way over to them, softly reaching up to pull Richie’s face closer to hers, “Bend down a bit, sweetie. You’re just getting so tall.” She pulled his glasses off to get a better look at his face, littered with the freckles that were coming in on his red, singed skin. “God. Okay, there’s aloe in your bathroom go put some on,” she handed his glasses back to him as he straightened back up. “Are these your old glasses? Where did these come from? I thought you’d lost them,” she said, craning her neck as she watched him slide them back over his nose, hissing at the weight of them resting across his sunburn.

He gestured his head toward Eddie who had moved to stand a few feet off to his side, “Eds had em. He also helped me put some aloe on last night when we got home.”

She turned to smile sweetly at Eddie, “Thanks, sweetheart. You’re really saving his ass.” She moved her eyes back up to Richie with a more stern look on her face, “Hm? What happened to all of the sunscreen I sent you with?”

“Mom, I used it! I have translucent skin I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Eddie giggled, “He really did. I don’t know how he got so burned.” 

“Alright. Well, Richie, you need to go get this sorted out before your ‘translucent’ skin gets skin cancer. You don’t work today, do you?”

Richie shook his head, “Neither does Eddie. We were just gonna play video games or somethin’ and stay in the air conditioning all day.” 

She nodded. “Okay. Now scoot.” She looked back to Eddie, “And thanks again for fixing him up, Eddie. Went and I owe you one.” She winked at him kindly. “You staying for dinner?”

“I don’t know... My mom...” Eddie shrugged. “I’ll have to ask.” 

Richie dropped down on one knee next to him and began yelling dramatically, mimicking the grandmother from Mulan, “Oh, Eds. Wanna stay for dinner? Wanna stay...  _forever_??” Eddie blushed and flicked Richie on his red, peeling ear. He screwed his face up and gripped it tightly, hissing, “Ow. You dick.” 

“Mhm. Let’s go, Rich. Put some aloe on your weak body so I can beat your ass in MarioKart.”

They played MarioKart almost all day, during which Richie won only two games--claiming it was because Eddie was distracting him: “ _Cute, cute, cute....”_ When it started to get closer to dinnertime, and the time Eddie would normally have been getting home from work, he called his mom to tell her that he was going to be spending the night at Richie’s. Richie couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying through the tiny speaker on Eddie’s phone, but he could hear his hushed almost-yelling through the door after he snuck out into the hallway. He could just make out the sound of her shrill tone, speaking unintelligible nonsense about, Richie was sure, how much she disliked him and spewing her classic guilt-tripping tactics to get Eddie to come home for dinner. After a thirty minute phone call that ended with Eddie just hanging up on her, he slunk back into Richie’s room to find him still in the position he’d been in all day: splayed out on his stomach on the floor, his face just inches away from the TV he’d gotten instead of a car for his sixteenth birthday. He was still playing MarioKart, his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth in concentration.

Eddie lightly kicked him in the side, “You’ve been laying there for so long, dude. No wonder you’re so blind.” 

Without moving his eyes from the screen, Richie shot back, “Shut up. Watch a real master at work.” He whipped the remote in his hands, obviously trying to do some bullshit trick, but he only ended up spectacularly plunging himself off a cliff. As the screen cut to black, he dropped his head onto his forearms face-down, “Fuck me.” He rolled onto his back and looked up to where Eddie was sitting on the bed looking down at him disdainfully, “So did your mom ask about me?” He let his mouth fall open into a dopey half-smile, winking as he did so.

“Shut up.” Eddie looked down at his lap and began fiddling with his phone, turning it over in his hands. “I told her I was just gonna spend the night, is that okay? I don’t really wanna go home after... Well, I’m sure you could hear.”

Richie sat up, folding his knees up in front of him. “Of course it is, Eds! You know I love it when you stay over. Gives me more time to beat your ass in MarioKart.” 

Eddie reached behind him to grab one of the pillows strewn randomly at the foot of Richie’s bed for whatever reason and flung it at him with a smile. “Asshole.” 

From downstairs, they could hear the garage door opening, signaling Richie’s dad’s arrival home. “Sweet, dad’s home! Wonder if mom made spaghetti for dinner.” Richie said, shooting Eddie a smirk as he stood up, still wincing at his tight, now peeling sunburn. Eddie rolled his eyes before getting up and following him downstairs. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs to find Wentworth putting his bag down in the living room and moving quietly into the kitchen to sidle up to Maggie from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder as he watched her mix up the chicken salad she’d prepared for dinner.

Eddie watched quietly and cocked his head to the side, “Aw,” he whispered under his breath.

Next to him, Richie turned in his direction, disgust painting his face, “Ew.”

Eddie elbowed Richie in his side playfully, but still hard enough to hurt, “Shut up, Trashmouth.”

Richie pushed his glasses up and shrugged as he turned to walk into the kitchen, Eddie trailing behind him. “Alright alright, break it up in here before I lose my appetite. What’s for dinner?”

Maggie whipped her head around to shoot him a glance, her eyes narrowed. She unwrapped herself from Went’s arms to lean back against the counter. “Chicken salad. Hope that’s okay, your highness.”

Putting on a terrible British accent, Richie waved his hands around as he said, “Ooh ho, that will be just fine I think, what do you think, Edward?” Eddie responded with a quick nod, his brows furrowed and eyes wide before Richie continued, “Yes yes, madame. I think ye olde salad au poultry shall be devastatingly delicious.”

Ignoring Richie completely, Maggie caught Eddie’s eye from where she was standing next to Went, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, almost engulfing her due to their almost six-inch height difference. “Eddie you’re staying, right? I made enough for four so you’re welcome to but don’t feel like you have to. I know how your mother gets.”

Richie interrupted before Eddie could get a word out, still performing in his British accent, “Oh we all know the folly of that woman, she be a mighty hard lass to deal with sometimes.”

“Rich, that turned into Irish at the end there,” Eddie spat the second Richie paused. “But um, yeah it would be great if I could stay. Thanks, guys.”

Wentworth piped up from next to Maggie, his warm, booming voice echoing throughout the small kitchen, “Of course, Ed. Stay the night if you’d like. And Richie that accent really is terrible, you have got to work on it.”

“Hey! How come he can call you Ed but I can’t call you Eds!?” Richie exclaimed, completely disregarding the dig from his father.

Wentworth replied, “It’s different, Richie.”

Eddie smiled, “Yeah, Rich. It’s different because it’s you,” earning a laugh from everyone but Richie, who slumped his shoulders forward and screwed his face up into an exaggerated pout.

 

* * *

 

 

After dinner, the boys carried their plates in and helped load the dishes in the dishwasher as Maggie closed up the leftovers in Tupperware to shove in the fridge. While Richie was at the table gathering the last of the silverware and cups, Eddie turned to face Maggie, who was across the kitchen at the fridge.

“Um, hey thanks for letting me stay here tonight, really. Dinner was great, Mrs. Tozier.” 

“Oh honey, you know you’re always welcome to spend the night here. I know it can be...” She took a deep breath. “It can just be nice to get out of the house sometimes.” 

Eddie nodded. “Well. Yeah, thanks again,” he said before turning to catch up to Richie who was already halfway up the stairs. They raced up quietly and Eddie shut the door behind them once they were both inside Richie’s room.

Richie turned around and pushed his glasses up on his face, “So... wanna just watch a movie or somethin’?”

Eddie plopped down on Richie’s bed, “Sure. You pick, I don’t really care.” 

He rolled onto his stomach and watched Richie rifle through his bin of DVDs, all just thrown in together with no sense of organization whatsoever.  _If we ever move in together I’m getting a fucking shelf for those_ , he thought to himself.  _Wait. What the fuck. Why would we move in together? Oh my god. We aren’t— I’m not— It’s not—_  “Earth to Eds!”

Eddie snapped out of it and looked up at where Richie was right in front of him, a dumb smile on his face. “Stop fucking  _calling_  me that, dude. I’ve told you so many times.”

Richie put his hands up in front of him defensively, “Sorry, dude. You were just in your own little world over there. Is Step Brothers good?”

“Sure,” Eddie replied quickly, not looking up at Richie, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. Richie turned away reluctantly and slid the disc into the player before laying down next to Eddie on the bed, making the springs bounce as he flopped onto it.

About halfway through the movie, Richie heard Eddie’s breathing getting slow and deep and looked over to find him fast asleep, his head resting in the crook of his arm. He smiled and rolled off the bed to turn the TV off, getting the overhead light and the lamp on his bedside table while he was up. He laid back down in the bed next to Eddie, both of their heads at the foot of the bed. He could feel he was close to sleep as well, and he felt himself drifting off as he lay next to Eddie in the dark. “Night, Eds,” he whispered right before he succumbed to sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Richie woke up first the next morning and hopped out of bed to brush his teeth. When Eddie finally woke up a half hour later, Richie was back to his natural position--sitting criss-cross on the floor playing video games; some first-person shooter game that Eddie didn’t recognize. “Hey. What time’s it?” He asked groggily, slowly moving to sit up as he rubbed at his eyes to try and wake up. “We have work at 9:30.” 

“Yeah, it’s like 8:45, I figured I’d get you up in a minute,” Richie said, not looking away from the TV. “Wanna just stop by your house on the way so you can grab your suit?” 

Eddie remained sitting, fighting through a big yawn, “Mhm. Let’s leave soon. Get dressed, I can just go downstairs and wait for you.” 

Richie stood up and started to root around his room for the swimsuit he’d discarded carelessly the day before. “I mean you can stay in here, I don’t really care. It’s us.” 

Eddie swallowed, trying not to choke on his own spit, “Yeah, it’s just us.” 

Richie dressed quickly, during which Eddie busied himself with something that was seemingly incredibly important on his phone. They raced down the stairs and said goodbye to Richie’s mom before hopping in Eddie’s car and heading towards Eddie’s house. Richie waited outside while Eddie ran in to grab his work stuff, they both knew that if Richie went in with him it would have turned into a thirty-minute ordeal that they did not have the time for. 

Once they got to work, they, as usual, aligned themselves in the rotation so that they were next to each other, meaning they’d always have coinciding breaks. Fifteen minutes together every hour wasn’t much, but Richie was sure to make it feel like more by trying to distract Eddie from the guard shack every time he was out on stand. After a few hours, Richie was getting hungry and sauntered into the guard shack, dramatically clutching his stomach, “Hey, what do you want for lunch? I’m gonna go order mine I thought we could eat together.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Chicken sandwich? And fries.”

Richie smirked, “Ohoo Eds, not going for the cup of grapes today. Bold move.”

Eddie smiled back, “Whatever, Mr. Chicken Fingers for every meal since you started working here.”

Richie shrugged as he turned away, “They’re good! Be back in five!”

Richie made his way into the snack bar to find that Bev was behind the counter. “Bev! Baby! What’s goin’ on in the lovely world of the snack bar this fine afternoon?”

“Just convinced some punk-ass thirteen-year-old that ketchup in Powerade was a good combination. So it’s been a pretty normal day. You guys getting lunch?”

Richie nodded, “Mhmm. You want to join?” 

Bev shook her head. “Ugh. I literally just ate. I didn’t know you two were working today, you guys have to tell me these things.”

“Sorry, we just kinda passed out last night, I didn’t even think to text you before we got here this morning.”

Beverly raised her eyebrows. “You guys sleep in the same bed again?”

Richie felt his cheeks flush, heat flooding his already sunburn-warm skin. “Uh... Yeah, possibly, we may have. Maybe. Possibly.”

Bev grinned, the skin on either side of her eyes crinkling up as she smiled. “See? He totally likes you too, Rich.”

Richie groaned, “Unless he has told you specifically using those words, I don’t buy it, Bev. I just....” He reached a hand up, running it through his hair nervously. “I don’t know. I don’t want to ruin things, you know?” 

“Yeah, I get that. But it’s been years. He’s an idiot. We both know this and we love him for it. But just... I think it’d be worth it if you take that chance. Imagine how amazing it could be! I mean I know Ben was nervous before--”

Richie cut her off, “Yeah yeah yeah, we have all heard about your amazing childhood-slash-high school sweetheart love story. You guys are gross and in love, we get it.”

“Whatever, Rich, you know I just want you to be happy. This could be great for you guys.”

Richie just grumpily grabbed a pencil and order sheet from the counter and scrawled down his and Eddie’s lunch orders quickly before sliding it across the counter to her. “I know you do, Bev. It just... sucks.” 

She nodded. “You’re definitely not wrong. I want you to get your boy as much as you do.”

“I know you do, Beverly of the Barrens, finest in all the land,” Richie walked out of the snack bar with a flourish, mock-bowing to her before he opened the door. 

Once he got back to the guard shack, Eddie was waiting for him, folding towels in the back corner. “What on earth were you doing in there for so long?”

Richie blushed, “Uh... Bev’s working. We were just... talking. You know how we do.”

Eddie shot him a smirk, his eyes suspicious. “Uh, yeah, Richie. I know how the two of you ‘do.’ But I’ll pick up the food when it’s done, I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“Okay! Thanks, Eds!”

Eddie inhaled sharply as if to begin an argument, but apparently thought better of it. “I’m not even gonna yell at you for that anymore.”

Richie gasped. “Does this mean I can call you Eds now?” He asked eagerly.

“No. I’m just tired of yellin’ at you,” Eddie said with a shrug. 

“Fair enough,” Richie said quietly, mostly just to himself under his breath.

“Alright, I’ll go check on the food, be right back,” Eddie said, finishing up the stack of towels he was working on and heading through the door past Richie.

Eddie walked back in the guard shack a few minutes later carrying their food (along with a milkshake for each of them that they definitely only got because Bev was working). He plopped down on the floor and handed Richie his chicken finger basket. Richie looked up with bright eyes, he was still in his glasses today, he apparently had not felt like changing back into contacts that morning. “Have you seen the groupme?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes as he put a french fry in his mouth, “No dude, we’re at work I wasn’t really looki--”

Richie pushed his glasses up on his nose, “Yeah yeah whatever most of it happened like an hour ago I just saw it. Look.” Richie turned his phone around and shoved it into Eddie’s free hand. He watched, eagerly munching on his food while Eddie’s eyes pored over the screen as he read the messages quickly. 

[Big Bill 1:33pm]: GUYS my parents are taking Georgie to DC this weekend and I can’t go because I work tomorrow, but we should all hang out on Saturday night! 

[Big Bill 1:34pm]: What if we drink? We probably should try it since we’re about to be seniors in high school. We’re not total losers. 

[Mikey 1:40pm]: I’m down! Probably won’t drink much though, I’ll keep an eye on you idiots for the night.

[Stan the Man 1:41pm]: Mikey. You’re too good to us. Where the fuck would we even get alcohol though we don’t have any friends

[Benny 1:49pm]: I could maybe ask one of the other tennis coaches? I don’t wanna get in trouble though...

[Bev 2:37pm]: Oh I’ve got that covered, my dad was on a bender a few weeks ago so I stole some whiskey I knew he wouldn’t notice. It’s a pretty big bottle.

[Benny 2:42pm]: Bev to the rescue!!! Woohoo!!! Okay where are the other two idiots

[Bev 2:45pm]: They’re here, Eddie just picked up their lunches so we should get a response in...

[Bev 2:46pm]: Ah, nice to see you’re typing, Richie. You guys in?

[Trash 2:46pm]: It’s Eddie I’m on his phone but yeah. We both get off at 4 on Sat.

[Big Bill 2:49pm]: Perfect. 

 

* * *

 

 

After they got off of work on Saturday, the two of them stopped by Richie’s house so he could grab stuff to spend the night at Bill’s. Eddie had been keeping the essentials in his car since his mom had bought the thing almost two years earlier, so all he needed to do was make a simple phone call to her explaining where he’d be that night. Richie didn’t hear much of the usual hushed argument as he was rifling through his drawers for a pair of clean boxers, but the one thing he did overhear through the tiny speaker on Eddie’s phone as he paced back and forth was, “Well. As long as that Tozier boy isn’t there. You know how I feel about him, Eddie-bear.”

Eddie sighed quietly before replying. “Yes, momma. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, flopping down on his back on Richie’s bed, his arms outstretched on either side of him. “ _God,_ when do we graduate again?” He whined, massaging his temples. 

Richie chuckled, “Soon enough, Eds. Soon enough.” 

They piled back into Eddie’s car, accompanied by an obscene amount of food that Maggie had insisted they bring--although they both knew it would be gone within fifteen minutes of their arrival. 

The food did, in fact, get consumed within minutes of turning up at Bill’s house, as well as copious amounts--or, copious for them--of alcohol. None of them had ever drunk before, so a few hours and three cocktails later they all found themselves splayed out around Bill’s basement. Bev was sitting in Ben’s lap in the corner La-Z-Boy that Bill’s dad had bought himself for Christmas a few years earlier, Stan was on the loveseat, taking the entire thing up with his legs, and Bill and Mike were sitting on the floor in the middle of everyone. Richie and Eddie had commandeered the couch, and after Eddie’s second drink, he’d moved to a horizontal position, his feet tucked up next to him and his head laid in Richie’s lap. For the last forty-five minutes since Eddie had shifted positions, Richie had been frozen: his eyes wide and his mouth hung open slightly in a dumbstruck grin. 

Bev chuckled from her position in the corner, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, “Guys, I think Richie is broken.”

Richie snapped out of it and whipped his head in her direction, “Hm? No, I’m fine. Just spacing out.”

Bev hummed a happy, knowing little tune back, nestling her head in Ben’s neck. Eddie sat up quickly next to Richie, his cheeks blushing almost as dark as Richie’s already were. He cleared his throat. “So... Uh. Anyways... What should we do?”

Bill started laughing, “I d-don’t know, it looked like Richie was having a great ti-time about forty-five seconds ago.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side, “What’s that supposed to mean, Bill?” 

Bill put his hands up defensively on either side of him, “N-nothing, dude. Just teasing you guys.” 

Richie spoke up sleepily from beside him, “It’s fine, Eds.”

“No, Richie! It’s not fine! And stop calling me Eds!” He yelled. “If Bill has something to say I want him to say it.” He stood up from the couch, “To our faces.” 

Bill stood up, using his considerable height advantage over Eddie in hopes of warding him off, “Bro. I. Was. Kidding. Fucking chill.” 

Mike cleared his throat from his spot on the floor, he’d sat up a bit straighter, ready to get up if anything happened. “Guys. Bill, back off. He’s drunk.”

Eddie pointed at Mike, shooting daggers his direction with his eyes, “I am not, Michael. Get off my dick.”

Bill laughed again, “Bet you’ve never said that to Richie.” 

Richie threw his arms up, peeking around Eddie to glare at Bill, “Dude, what the fuck?” 

Just as Richie finished his sentence, Eddie launched forward, his fist connecting with Bill’s cheek. Bill stumbled back a few steps and grabbed his face. Eddie pulled his hand back quickly, cradling it with his free hand and hissing loudly. “Fuck,” he whispered, “That hurt so fucking bad. Why don’t they tell you how bad that fucking hurts.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry your hand hurts,” Bill whined, his hand still clutching the side of his face. “Dick.”

Richie jumped up from the couch where he’d been quietly starting to doze off until the commotion had started. “Oh my god. Eddie. Jesus Christ.”

Eddie whipped around to face him, his eyes slightly drooping due to the alcohol, but furious nonetheless. “I’m  _fine,_ Rich. Leave me alone.”

“I’m just... uh. I’m gonna take him back to my place. Eddie, let’s... we should go.” 

“Richie you’re not my fucking mom!” He brought his hands up in front of him in a boxer’s stance, “You wanna keep going, Billy?”

Bill looked at him incredulously, “Literally not at all, Ed.”

Richie reached out, at risk of life and limb, and took one of Eddie’s arms in his hand, his fingers completely enveloping Eddie’s thin wrist. “We’re going. See you guys tomorrow. Maybe.” Eddie sighed and let himself be dragged by Richie slowly towards the stairs. 

“Text us when you get back, please.” Ben requested quietly. 

“Will do, Benny Boy. Have a good night, guys.” 

They trudged up the stairs quietly, Richie still holding on tightly to Eddie for fear he’d make a break for it. When they reached the landing, Richie shut the basement door and led them into Bill’s kitchen, turning around to face Eddie. “Dude, are you okay?”

Eddie looked down at the floor, his face still flushed from the adrenaline. “Yeah. I just. It’s nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Eds. I know you. It’s me. You can tell me anything.” 

Eddie turned around, making his way to the front door, grabbing his and Richie’s overnight bags on the way out. “Let’s just go.”

Richie trotted along behind him to catch up, “Okay fine, but we’re not dropping this.”

They walked the two blocks back to Richie’s house in silence, Eddie walking just a few paces ahead of Richie the entire time, holding both of their bags, refusing to let Richie carry even his own. They arrived at Richie’s after just a few minutes and snuck up the stairs quietly. Richie flipped the light on in his bedroom the second the door was closed behind them. “Um, I’m gonna brush my teeth. My mouth tastes like alcohol. I’ll be right back.” He looked around for a second before throwing one of his dresser drawers open and rifling through it. “Here’s clothes to sleep in,” he said as he tossed Eddie a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. 

Eddie held up the bags still in his hand, giggling and flashing Richie a drunken smile. 

Richie reached up to fix the glasses he wasn’t wearing, “Oh. Right. You brought... stuff... Never mind. I’m an idiot, sorry.” Richie went to grab the clothes from Eddie, who pulled them close.

“No, it’s fine. These will do. My clothes are... di--” He hiccuped. “Dirty.” 

“Oh, Eds, I’m glad that they will do,” Richie replied as the British Guy. “Shall I have the butler fetch you a glass of wat-ah?”

Eddie grinned, “Sure, why don’t you do that while you’re brushing your teeth?” 

Richie just giggled and turned on his heel, leaving the room quietly. 

When Richie got back from the bathroom, he found Eddie sitting criss-cross in his bed, drowning in the shirt he’d given him, which was pooling in his lap. He’d taken his shorts off and was just in his boxers with his socks still on his feet, scrunched slightly around his ankles. He’d apparently decided against putting Richie’s boxers on, opting to stay in the ones he’d already been wearing. He looked up at the noise when Richie shut the door carefully behind him, still trying not to wake his parents up, although he was pretty sure they could sleep through anything. Eddie’s eyes were round, innocent, but Richie could see tears starting to well in the corners. “I shouldn’t have done that,” Eddie whispered. 

Richie moved quickly to sit next to him, looking back into his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. Bill texted, he said he didn’t care, you were just confused.” He softly punched Eddie on the arm, jostling him a bit and coaxing a shy smile from him finally, “But... Thanks for sticking up for me, Eds.” Eddie looked down at his lap and stayed silent for almost a minute, the smile on his face began to fade. Richie began talking again, a mile a minute, “Wait come back with that smile, sorry I won’t call you Eds, I know you don’t like it I’m sor--”

Eddie shushed him quietly, putting a hand up in front of him. He took a deep breath. “Rich? Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course you can. Anything.” 

“I...” he looked back up at Richie, his eyes wide again, irises soft in the warm light from the lamp on Richie’s nightstand, “I think that... um, I think I’m gay.” 

“Hey, that’s great! I thought you were gonna tell me I was in trouble or something. Well, I guess that’s not super great because people still get fucking beat up and bullied and like... murdered for being gay even though it’s fucking two thousa-- Wait, are you telling me because you... because I...?”

Eddie looked down again, fiddling with a hole near the hem of Richie’s old t-shirt. He whispered, “I don’t really know. I just wanted you to know.” 

“Shit,” Richie whispered back, even quieter. 

“I mean it’s fine if you don’t-- I don’t even know if I-- what I’m telling you is just.” He finally looked back up, “I don’t fucking know. But I wanted to at least tell you. Tell you that I’m really confused but like... I’m not confused about you.” 

Richie reached out and put a hand on Eddie’s slender, bare knee, watching goosebumps pop up around it. “Can we talk about it when you’re not... you know. Drunk?” Eddie stared at him for a second and then slowly started nodding. He started to move off the bed to the spot on the floor he always slept when he spent nights at Richie’s, but stopped when he felt Richie’s hand on his shoulder, big enough to cover the entire surface area. “Wait. Just... sleep in the bed tonight?” Eddie turned around, eyes hooded from alcohol-induced sleepiness. Richie lay back to make room, and Eddie smiled softly before settling down next to him, laying his head on Richie’s bare chest. Listening to Richie’s deep, even breathing, he fell asleep within seconds. Richie laid there awake for a bit longer, just looking at Eddie curled up on his chest.  _His_ chest, in  _his_ bed. He watched as Eddie’s back rose and fell with his breath, he followed the pattern of Eddie’s hair that was wavy now from the humidity of the summer.   _Shit. Bev was fucking right. This isn’t... we aren’t friends anymore._

When Richie woke first the next morning, he looked down to see Eddie’s head still on his chest. At some point in the night, his arm had found its way up to wrap tightly around Richie’s midsection, his hand gripping at his side. Richie couldn’t help but beam, overwhelmed with the feeling of finally,  _finally_ understanding, finally being on the same page as Eddie for once.

He felt Eddie stir a few minutes after, and smiled down at him, ready to tease him for turning into a koala as he slept. What Eddie did, however, was not at all the reaction Richie had been expecting. When Eddie opened his eyes and realized the position he was in, he shot up immediately, looking terrified. He scrambled out of the bed and stood up, looking back to where Richie was still fighting sleep. “What the fuck, Richie? What happened last night?” He looked down and noticed that he was in one of Richie’s shirts and ripped it off, clearly disgusted. He began getting dressed hurriedly, throwing his clothes on wonky and not bothering to fix them. “Why was I in your bed? And why did you let me  _sleep on you_?” He was almost yelling now.

Richie cocked his head to the side, “Dude, chill out it’s fine.” He reached over to his night table to grab his glasses and shoved them on his face so he could see Eddie’s horrified expression.

Eddie’s voice was getting more shrill with every passing second, “It’s  _not_ fine, Trashmouth! Do you know how gross that is!? There are probably so many germs in your bed when was the last time you washed your sheets? And... I’m not fucking...  _gay.”_ He picked up his shoes from the ground and shoved them on his feet hastily, moving to the door. “I’m going home.” 

Richie tumbled forward on his bed so he was perched at the end on his knees. The duvet fell around him as he leaned towards Eddie. “Eds. Wait. Do you not remember last night?”

Eddie stopped and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. “No. Well, I remember...” He examined his left hand, the knuckles bruised and cut up, the skin starting to swell, “Did I... Fuck. I punched Bill didn’t I.”

Richie nodded frantically. “And then... we came back here? Do you remember that?”

Eddie opened his eyes back up to reveal tears welling in them. He blinked the tears away, obviously thinking that Richie couldn’t see them, and bit his lip as he shook his head. “Richie, I need to go home--my mom.”

“Eddie, wait. Please.” 

Eddie just shook his head back and forth vigorously and backed up, closing the remaining distance between him and Richie’s door quickly. He opened it and slunk out after whispering a final, “I’m sorry, Rich.”


	3. Chapter 3

The morning Eddie left his house, hungover with a hand swollen from the near-fight he’d had with Bill, Richie had called Beverly not five minutes after Eddie’s hasty evacuation.

“Bev. It happened again. But this time he didn’t… he woke up first this time. And he woke up like… sleeping  _ on  _ me.” 

“And…?” She asked hopefully.

Richie sighed. “No. It was bad. Really bad.”

“Okay sweetie, just tell me what happened.”

“So when I woke up he was just wrapped around me and…” He reached up to rub at the back of his neck, “God, Bev, he was so cute. Just head on my chest and breathing soft and quick and I… Fuck, that’s so gay, isn’t it. Fuck. Anyway. He woke up and just… jumped up. Said a bunch of shit about how gross it is to share a bed and how gross I am and how… how he’s not ‘gay’ and then… and then he just… left.”

Beverly sighed, brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear, Richie could hear the strands brushing against the microphone through the phone, it was something she always did when she wasn’t sure what to say. “Rich, he’s just. He’s just being Eddie. He’s always gonna be like that.”

“I know I know, but I just wish he’d… I don’t know. Not be like that?” Richie pondered, moving his hand to scratch the back of his head, messing up his frizzy, almost matted curls.

Bev chuckled, “If you don’t wanna deal with all that is Eddie Kaspbrak and everything that comes with him then you’re gonna have to move on, bro. You know I’m right.”

Richie groaned, “Bev! Just… tell me what to do.”

“You’re just gonna have to give him time. He’s not as confident as you are, honey.”

“I don’t wanna,” Richie whined through the phone. He exhaled sharply, “You’re probably right though.”

“I always am,” Bev sang, trailing off at the end. “Hey, I gotta go to work, you coming in today?”

“Nah. Not for another few days, actually.”

“Okay. Well, sweetie, just be patient. It’ll be worth it.”

He groaned. “I know. See ya later, Bev baby.”

“Bye, Richard.”

“Hey! Don’t call m--”

She’d hung up the phone amid a fit of giggles, and Richie was left alone, sitting in his bed in only boxers, Eddie’s scent still lacing the sheets. He had nothing to do but wait. And wait he did. Days passed. They turned into weeks. Still nothing from Eddie. He spent as little time with Richie as he could manage outside of work, Richie saw him only during group gatherings, never one on one. At work he was civil, fairly normal, but quieter than usual, none of the usual banter was there anymore. He was building a wall between them, brick by brick, and Richie could feel the pang as Eddie lay each singular stone, swallowing his feelings per usual, something the both of them had mastered at that point.

He waited for almost three weeks, and in that first week, Richie had had his first shift of the entire summer without Eddie, something that, Richie was sure, Eddie had facilitated in some way or another. Over the next few weeks, they started to have more shifts not together, for which Richie’s mom had to drive him to and pick him up from as he still hadn’t gotten his license. He supposed he probably should at that point, if the summer continued like this his mother would have to become his personal chauffeur. Part of him wanted to hold out, just in case Eddie came back, in case he calmed down. What was the use in failing the driver’s test multiple times when your best friend didn’t--or, well, hadn’t ever minded being the designated driver? He then began to debate doing it just to impress Eddie, the thought dawning on him then that an excuse to spend time with Eddie had been most of the excuse to himself for not actually taking the test in the first place. He’d learned to drive at the same time as all of his friends, sure, after hours in the car with his father, the tiny cabin filled with their reverberating shouts and screeches as Richie nearly crashed his parents’ station wagon into the lone car in the corner of the parking lot they’d commandeered for practice. He’d gotten a little better after a while, but not much. He’d never been one for rules, for details, and this was no different. He just wanted to get where he was going, and everyone in Derry drove like they were carrying a delicate fifteen-layer wedding cake in the back seat, so it was usually better for him to just ride shotgun. He decided against getting it in the end, still hoping against hope that Eddie would come back.

The fourth of July was approaching, and he still hadn’t had a one on one conversation with Eddie since the day Eddie had abruptly left his room. Richie was as confused as ever about the status of their relationship, and mostly just upset with Eddie at this point. He had decided that he didn’t even care about Eddie reciprocating his feelings, he just needed his best friend back. He’d been right, he knew it was going to ruin their friendship, create an immense crevasse that couldn’t be mended just with a night of candy and video games. He’d tried hanging out with the others more often, but nobody was as fun to spend time with as Eddie, not in every single way that Eddie was. Ben was the only one who could give Richie a run for his money in MarioKart besides Eddie, but he just wasn’t as competitive; and Bill just blew his ass out of the water every single time, so it wasn’t even worth it. Stan was as sarcastic as Eddie, but it didn’t feel the same--it wasn’t the same lighthearted teasing that Richie was used to; Stan’s humor was best understood by Stan, it was a touch dry for Richie’s taste. And Mike was just the same as the others--he was funny, really funny, and they had the same taste in TV and movies, but he’d never be able to spar with Richie in the way he needed, Mike was just too nice. Bev was the same as always, she and Richie had always had a great connection, they ran on the same wavelength. But nobody-- _ nobody-- _ could ever match both Richie’s wavelength and his frequency quite like Eddie could.

When the schedule had come out showing that both Richie and Eddie were working on the Fourth, Richie had initially been pissed. They’d all planned to sneak onto the edges of the country club’s golf course and watch the fireworks display--it was just a short walk from Ben’s house, where they had planned to spend the night after the show. After mulling it over for a few hours, though, he thought it would actually probably be nice. Time and a half  _ and _ a shift with Eddie, which he hadn’t had in almost two weeks at this point.

When the day finally rolled around, Richie hadn’t even bothered to text Eddie for a ride, they hadn’t spoken in weeks. But, as just as he was pulling his trunks on and searching around his room for the pair of flip-flops he’d left haphazardly laying around, he heard a car pull in his driveway and honk twice. Eddie. He ran over to his bedroom window and lifted the blinds to peek through. Sure enough, Eddie’s car was idling in the driveway, and Eddie was looking up at Richie through the windshield, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush gracing his cheeks. Richie returned the smile with a wide, toothy grin, and turned around to race down the stairs, taking them two at a time--nearly ending up in a heap on the floor at the bottom once or twice.

As he bustled down the stairs, his bony knees knocking against one another in his haste, he called back over his shoulder, putting on the British accent, “Mother dear, I must be off, the corporate world calls, you know how work gets. I have a phone call with Shanghai in fifteen--”

“Richie.” She sighed. “Just. I’m gonna drive you, let me grab my shoes.”

Richie’s face lit up as he looked up to his mother at the top of the stairs, “Eddie’s here!”

“Oh!” She grinned, clearly surprised but relieved, and took a deep breath. “Well, that’s great sweetie. Have a good night, call me if you need to be picked up or anything… I’ll… I’ll be around. Just in case something happens with Eddie...” She plastered a soft smile on her face, a mask over clear and fierce worry for Richie.

“Mom, it’s fine. Love you byeee!” He dragged out the last syllable as he took off running again, sliding across the hardwood floor in their entryway and pulling the front door open in a rush.

As he climbed in the car, he immediately began talking, “Eddie Spaghetti! It’s you! It’s really you!” He switched to a southern accent, “Why ah say ah say, I haven’t seen a lad so fine around these parts in--”

“Cut the shit, Richie.”

Richie dropped his smile, looking over at Eddie with his eyes wide, his brows furrowed.

Eddie sighed. “I just… I’m really sorry. About the thing that happened.” Eddie finally looked up at him, his eyes searching, deep.

Richie smiled softly, “You sorry about leaving? Or about sleeping in my bed? Because I must say, Eds, I’m--”

Eddie let out an exasperated breath, exhaling sharply, the noise of it filled the entire cabin of the small car. “Can’t you take anything seriously? For like five fucking minutes, Richie.”

“Eds, I’m sorry! Wait--”

“It’s fine. We can talk about it later. We’re gonna be late for work.” Eddie looked away quickly and reached down to put the car in reverse, pulling out of Richie’s driveway and taking them down the familiar route to the pool in silence.

The moment they arrived, they’d been thrown immediately into complete and utter chaos. Fourth of July at the Derry Country Club tended to get a little wild, all of the members came out to celebrate the holiday in force, along with a plethora of guests; the place turned from serene, picturesque, quiet pool to an outright zoo. The children all ran amok around the pool deck, creating a ruckus everywhere they went, their parents distracted elsewhere with a glass of wine or a beer. Richie and Eddie were instantly immersed in the pandemonium that was the annual Fourth party, and barely had time to breathe, let alone talk. They’d had to scarf their dinners down and go right back out to the pool deck, there was never time for a break, no time to idle around and mingle, they were always right back out to clean something. 

As the night began to draw to a close, the sun started to set and the parents had to begin attempting to wrangle their kids from the pool to watch the fireworks show set to start the moment it was dark enough. When they shot the five-minute warning firecracker up into the air, all of the lifeguards working began to shoo the members from the pool, a few of them staying out to monitor the pool deck. Richie listened patiently as Eddie gave them all instructions for what they’d be doing during the fireworks display, and once they broke, he followed Eddie to the guard shack--they were on towel and first aid duty (as well as member complaint duty). They settled into the cramped space quietly, Eddie sighing as he took a seat in the only chair behind the counter. Richie leaned against the back wall, eyeing Eddie tensely. “So…?”

“So,” Eddie whispered, turning around to face him.

“I… uh… I really am sorry about leaving. I’m also sorry about sleeping in your bed, Rich. It was--” He sighed and scanned quickly behind them out beyond the counter. Once he saw there wasn’t anyone around, he motioned for the two of them to sink to the floor, giving them more privacy to talk. “That wasn’t cool,” he breathed into the darkness, they’d just turned off the lights illuminating the pool deck in preparation for the show, so no light was breaking through the small window from the outside world above them. They eyed each other in the shadows, barely able to make out even the expressions on each others’ faces.

“Eds, I--” Before Richie could finish his sentence, the rumble of firecrackers began outside, followed by a few hoots and hollers from the onlookers. Richie looked at Eddie, the side of his face illuminated sporadically, the fireworks casting a rainbow of light onto his soft, full cheeks. The light flickered; it danced on his skin. Richie extended a hand out, tracing the freckles on Eddie’s cheekbones, ablaze beneath the dazzling display of light. He could see tears welling up in Eddie’s eyes, the glassiness reflecting the shapes of the fireworks impeccably, mirroring the sky like water on a still night. He leaned in, his breath now coming in quick gasps and shudders, matching the erratic pace of Eddie’s--the air was hot between them, almost stifling. Richie sucked a deep breath in and closed his eyes. When he leaned in just the final few centimeters and closed the gap between their lips, Eddie tilted his head up to meet him. It was soft at first, just the dancing of two virgin lips against one another, both plush and warm in the summer air.

It was Eddie who parted his lips first, letting out what sounded like a sob as he placed a hand on Richie’s shoulder, lightly tracing his thumb back and forth across Richie’s exposed collarbone. Richie discovered that the noise Eddie had made had in fact been a sob as he reached another hand up to rest along Eddie’s jaw and found the skin to be wet. He pulled back for just a second to wipe the tear away, looking at Eddie questioningly as the booms continued outside, drowning out the sound of their breathing. Eddie simply nodded at Richie and let a few more tears fall from his eyes, tears that seemed to Richie to be tears of relief, judging by the small smile on his lips. At the sight, he found himself choked up, and just as Eddie leaned back in to rejoin their lips, Richie felt a tear fall from his eye the moment he let it shut. This kiss was more desperate, needier than the last. It tasted salty, it tasted of summer and of comfort and of familiarity. It was new and profound and confusing, but all at the same time it felt like home. It felt right.

As they heard the grand finale begin outside, Eddie sealed the kiss, pulling his lips off of Richie’s and placing one final, messy, soft kiss on his lips. He leaned forward further and buried his face in the crook of Richie’s neck and allowed the tears to flow, Richie could feel them run down his chest slowly. As the noise died down outside, he could begin again to make out the sounds of his own--still heavy--breathing, and of Eddie’s sniffling and his slowing sobs. He looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, his soft brown hair pressed up against his jaw, still drying in places from when he’d jumped in the pool to cool off an hour or so earlier. He followed the line of Eddie’s body down, watched his back rise and fall unevenly with his shuddering breath, and thought of all the times he’d sat with Eddie when they were younger as he battled with his own lungs, watching his best friend fight against a body that didn’t seem to want him to live. His chest swelled at the memories as they flooded in, of all of the times in his life he’d been proud to call Eddie his best friend, and the times he’d wanted to call him more. He bent his arm and fished a hand into Eddie’s hair, running his fingers through it softly, and he heard Eddie’s breath finally return to normal.

“You okay?” He asked under his breath and felt Eddie nod against his chest in response.

He raised his head to make eye contact with Richie, his eyes still a bit red and tear-swollen, his lips the same. “Yeah. Rich--”

He reached a thumb up to swipe away the teardrops from Eddie’s cheek, brushing some of his bangs off of his forehead. “Shh, It’s o--” just then, the lights outside came back on, casting the tiny space around them into stark brightness.

“Shit,” Eddie whispered, frantically wiping at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Let’s… uh. Hang on we just gotta close down we can--” He stood up, nervously peeking to his side out the window to make sure no one had seen them. He straightened up and took a deep breath, flattening his hair and brushing his hands on his swim trunks and tank top to smooth out any wrinkles that may have cropped up. “We can talk after. Hopefully, this won’t take long.”

It did. It took hours. The fireworks started around nine, and by the time they’d fully closed down the pool and gotten everyone out, the two of them were walking out to Eddie’s car at almost midnight, just two sweaty zombies, too tired to even think straight. They piled into the car, the soft dinging of the open door alert fuzzy background noise to their ears, clogged with weariness. Eddie looked over as they climbed into the car, the soft light inside illuminating his pink cheeks, his hooded eyes. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and illuminated the screen, the entire thing full of notifications. “Shit,” he whispered, “My mom’s losing her goddamn mind. I gotta go. Rich, I’m…”

Richie nodded slowly, feeling himself starting to drift off in the warmth that Eddie’s car had trapped while sitting in the parking lot for eight hours during their shift. “No that’s okay, Eds. I get it. You know I do.”

Eddie smiled warmly as he put his phone in the cupholder between them and ran a hand through his hair before pulling out of the parking spot. He drove them home quietly, not even bothering to flip on the radio as they made their way through the winding back streets to Richie’s house. He pulled into Richie’s driveway slowly and yawned as he turned to look at him. “I… uh... We should probably…” He blinked a few times lazily, his eyes heavy. “Just call me tomorrow.”

Richie nodded and hopped out of the car quietly. “Night, Eddie,” he whispered as he shut the door behind him. As he lay in bed that night, somehow completely unable to sleep even though he was as tired as he’d ever been, his mind raced back to Eddie, replaying the night over and over again, as if on a reel of old movie film; he was nervous he was going to wear it out. After about forty-five minutes of attempting sleep, he sat up in bed and attempted to flatten his sleep-messed, almost sticky from chlorine hair. He slid his glasses on and grabbed his phone from where it was charging on his nightstand and shoved it in his pocket before slipping a pair of old tennis shoes on. He rifled through his drawers for a t-shirt, a t-shirt that, after running down the stairs of his house and out the front door silently, he noticed under the warm light of the street lamps outside was the same shirt he’d given Eddie the last time he’d spent the night. He chuckled to himself as he started off in the direction of Eddie’s house, just a few blocks away from his own. As he got closer, he picked up speed, ending up almost running by the time he got there--ignoring his heaving breath and the protest from his legs, all of which were fully unprepared for any sort of physical activity.

When he arrived, he made his way around to the side of the house, sizing up the tree that led up to Eddie’s window, the one he’d spent a good chunk of his childhood scaling. He stared up at it, breath still coming hard and fast in his chest, and sighed before starting up it. Once he’d placed his feet in the first few familiar place holds, he craned his neck around to see Eddie still had his bedside lamp on, so either he had fallen asleep with it on or was having the same make-out induced insomnia Richie had been suffering from. He haphazardly made his way up the tree, trying to remember how he’d done it when he was younger. When he finally found his way up to the branch that was level with Eddie’s window, one that bowed under his weight significantly more than it had when he was twelve years old, he peered into Eddie’s room, able to make out a sliver between the blinds. He could see Eddie sat on his bed, very much awake still, sitting sideways in the small twin bed, the sheets still perfectly tucked in--only wrinkled a bit around him where his weight was depressing the mattress. He had his back against the wall and he’d drawn his knees in close, his arms wrapped around them. His head was resting on his forearms and his hands were clenched in tight fists, his thin fingers white from the pressure.

Richie leaned out of the tree to position himself in front of the window and rapped on the glass a few times with his fingertip. Eddie’s head snapped up, his cheeks tear-stained just as they had been earlier, the new tears still fresh in his eyes. He wiped them away quickly and hopped off the bed, carefully padding across the floor to open the window. Richie tumbled in, landing in a heap on the floor just below the window. He looked up at Eddie from where he lay, a grin on his face, “You impressed I can still do that?”

“Mhm. Did you… um... get my texts?” He asked quietly. Richie shook his head slowly and reached a hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone. His screen lit up seven unread texts. “It’s fine you don’t have to read them now, I was asking you to come here. I… uh…” He accidentally let out a quiet sob, one that Richie could now tell he had been trying to hold back. He quickly reached up to wipe at the tear that had fallen, looking down at his feet.

Richie stood up and took Eddie’s face in his hands, pulling it up by the chin so he could look into Eddie’s eyes. He spoke softly, “Hey hey hey, I’m here now. Why’re these back?” He asked, his voice a whisper.

“I just,” he sniffled, “I thought you weren’t gonna come. That you’d changed your mind or that you didn’t mean it earlier or it wasn’t good or that you hated me or--”

Richie shushed him, pulling him into his chest tightly, cradling his head with a hand wrapped around it, his fingertips sifting through the hair behind Eddie’s ear. “You know I could never hate you, Eds. You could… you could literally kick a puppy and I’d still be in love with you,” Richie gasped slightly at the realization of what had just slipped past his lips. “Oh. God. Sorry, I just. Um, I don’t wanna freak you out I don’t know what I’m saying I’m…”

He looked down as he trailed off to find Eddie staring back up at him, eyes sparkling with the same tears that had filled them earlier. He smiled back up at Richie, “You say you love me, Trashmouth? At least take me to dinner first.” He laughed softly as he wiped at his eyes, using the sleeve of his hoodie wrapped around the heel of his hand.

Richie laughed, a full laugh at minimal volume as to not wake Sonia, and scooped Eddie up, throwing him into a fit of giggles. “Shut up, I hate you,” he whispered into Eddie’s ear as he carried him over to the bed and dropped him down gently.

“I hate you too,” Eddie grinned.


End file.
